


Power Nap

by cuddlesome



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Petting, Muscles, Watching Someone Sleep, wrote this fic about sleeping instead of sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28194504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlesome/pseuds/cuddlesome
Summary: Broly decided Cheelai’s lap makes a good pillow.
Relationships: Broly/Cheelai (Dragon Ball), Cheelai & Lemo (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	Power Nap

**Author's Note:**

> I remember thinking when I watched the 1993 Broly movie that there was a lot of wasted potential. So glad the 2018 movie took the roided out screaming dude and made him into a super sympathetic woobie roided out screaming dude.
> 
> Not to mention Cheelai is EXACTLY my type, oh my GOD, she's SO cute.

Broly decided Cheelai’s lap makes a good pillow. She’s now trapped on her couch for the foreseeable future, pinned until he wakes up and moves. Her legs are going numb under the weight of his muscular bulk, but she can't find it in herself to be upset. If anything the fact that he gives off heat like a furnace is more disruptive to her than crushing her legs, and even that isn't so bad once she gets used to it. All that and she finds it almost easy to ignore the way his face is smooshed against her thigh.

Before he fell asleep, he untied Ba’s ear from around his waist and cuddled up beneath it like a blanket. The strong, wild smell on the fur is something she’s grown not just used to but affectionate towards between its association with Broly and the knowledge of how much it means to him.

“He’s sleeping,” she stage whispers to Lemo when he pops his head in through the door of her home to check on her.

He grins. “I can see that.” 

“It’s hard to get him to chill out, I haven’t seen him sleep so deeply since that time,” she says, knowing Lemo will know exactly what she means.

After his fight with Goku, Broly slept like the dead for four days. It got to the point Cheelai was scared he would never get back up. Then he showed up at the dinner table out of the blue one night and proceeded to eat a quarter of the food supplies Goku left them. They were happy to give it to him.

“You’d better hope he’s not that tired,” Leemo says. “Pretty sure you’ll go crazy and die of boredom.”

“I’ll gladly give up my sanity and even my life for the cause,” she says, throwing a splayed hand across her forehead.

“How noble.” He puts his hands on his hips. “He trusts you a lot, yanno. I get the feeling he doesn’t leave himself open to attack like that all the time.”

Cheelai looks back down at the slumbering Saiyan. Even if she wanted to, attacking him would probably have about the same effect as hurling a particle of dust against a steel wall. Unless she used a weapon, and even then she gets the feeling he’d just shrug it off.

Still, just because she’s curious what more Lemo has to say, she asks, “You think so?”

“You saved his life, after all.”

“ _We_ did.”

Lemo snorts and waves her off but she can see a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he leaves to return to his own shelter.

Cheelai looks back down at Broly. He managed to stay deep asleep throughout her conversation with Lemo. Impressive given that his delicate senses would wake him to the sound of any of Vampa’s awful bugs approaching from leagues away. The sound of his friends’ voices must not trigger that instinct in him.

She shifts her legs the tiniest bit. He mumbles in his sleep and holds her tighter. Great.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute, or I'd be really friggin' annoyed,” she murmurs, petting his hair. 

Earth’s hair care products had turned the unruly mass of tangles into something still thick and wild but less greasy and a good deal softer. She strokes it to its ragged ends, then sinks her hand in until she feels the bulk of his trapezius. Even unflexed, his muscles are startlingly hard. She’s reminded of what he can turn into given enough motivation. Grotesquely huge, overflowing with power and primal rage. Muscles on muscles on muscles.

Cheelai swallows thickly. It was terrifying to see him like that.

His father treated him like an uncontrollable beast. It only made sense he’d turn into one eventually, tail or no tail.

Cheelai withdraws her hand as Broly turns over onto his back. His eyes open slowly. He blinks and grunts as he gets used to the light.

“Hey,” Cheelai whispers.

“Hi,” he says in an even smaller, quieter voice.

She really wants to kiss him. Does he even know what a kiss is? Somehow she didn’t think his father showed affection that way, if at all. She’d probably freak him out. Better not to.

Broly stares up at her, dark eyes intent and unblinking.

“Whatcha thinking?” She asks.

He looks away like he’d been caught doing something wrong. 

His massive fingers curl in the fabric of her coat. “Nothing.”

“Sheesh, you’re a really bad liar.”

His face crumples with guilt. “It’s bad to lie. I’m sorry.”

It sounds like something his father had trained him to say. Cheelai feels guilty, too, at having made him feel bad. She really needs to dial back the teasing with someone who takes it so personally.

“It’s fine, just spit it out. Tell me what’s knocking around in that brain of yours.” She prods him gently in the forehead.

He mumbles something.

“Say again?” Cheelai asks, leaning closer.

“Tired.”

“That all? Go back to sleep.” She pushes on his shoulder to little effect.

“I’m awake. It’s time to train.”

She gives another fruitless push. “Broly, you never have to train again if you don’t want to. He can’t force you anymore.”

His expression twists. His father is still a sore spot, but Cheelai doesn’t have the restraint to keep from mentioning him once in a while. She still burns with anger for what he’d done to his son and would openly show her hate for him if it didn’t make Broly upset. Regardless of whether Paragus was a good father or not, Broly loved him.

“I want to train,” he says slowly. 

She sighs. “You really don’t know what else to do with yourself, huh?”

“I want to... but not now.”

“Well that solves that, then,” she says, grinning. “You can go back to sleep.”

He frowns.

"Really, Broly. We're all safe. And you are, too. You can rest some more."

He allows himself to be pushed down. “I... thank you.”

“You’re welcome," she says, even though she isn't a hundred percent sure what he's thanking her for.

After exchanging OK signs (“Wow, Broly, you’re getting really good at that.”) they lapse into silence.

But he’s far too tense to be asleep again. She waits for him to articulate what’s wrong, wondering if it would be right to prompt him.

“Cheelai,” he says not a minute later.

“Yeah?”

He works his jaw and clenches his fists. “I... I don’t have the words.”

He looks frustrated with himself, features pinching. Anger is a very dangerous emotion for him, volatile and potentially deadly. He goes from zero to a hundred so fast. She should be a lot more afraid than she is.

Instead, she touches one of his fists with her comparatively tiny gloved hand. He tenses even more, then relaxes.

“I think I know what you want to say,” Cheelai says.

"You do?"

She doesn’t know the words exactly either, not daring to assign “love” to the situation, but she at least gets the vibe. She nods and smiles at him. He smiles a little too, then at her insistence shuts his eyes again. Once more he's far too rigid for her to imagine that he's going to be able to fall asleep. He wants to say something else. 

Sure enough: "Cheelai?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Your legs are soft."

Cheelai giggle-snorts at the sudden admission. "Thanks. Go to sleep."

With that, he finally lets himself relax again. His breathing deepens. Soon he’s asleep, broad chest rising and falling. She wasn't able to appreciate his face the way he'd been positioned before, but she can now, and her insides all but melt at the sight. Stress still pinches his features, but it's to a much lesser degree than before. He actually looks content. Happy, even. Absolutely adorable.

“Sleep tight,” Cheelai says, patting his shoulder.

If Goku even thinks about paying them a visit today she’ll kick his ass herself.


End file.
